


Al Fresco Friskiness

by doilycoffin



Series: Wincest Love Week (Fall 2016) [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Sex, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:22:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8685568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doilycoffin/pseuds/doilycoffin
Summary: Dean had the best of intentions when he suggested to Sam that they fuck in the woods. Sadly, it turns out that the Winchesters just aren't meant for outdoorsy sex.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt: "NSFW in a pile of leaves."

After several days of tracking a particularly wily Chupacabra that had been terrorizing the ranches of rural Michigan, the hunt had come to rather anticlimactic end in Dean’s opinion. Stumbling by chance on the ugly little bastard’s den in the forest and ganking it before it woke up to conduct some nocturnal feasting wasn’t exactly the kind of heroic confrontation that legends were made of, but any hunt where he and Sam didn’t end up beaten all to hell or missing a few pints of blood was a good one in Dean’s mind. Plus, one of the ranchers vowed to repay them with a cooler packed full of a truly orgasmic amount of top notch bacon and steak if they took care of whatever was munching on their livestock, so who was he to complain if the hunt was a little more lackluster than he’d anticipated?

Still, the whole thing had left him with a ton of pent up energy and when he spotted a nice, big pile of leaves as he and Sam trekked through the woods to get to the impala, he knew the perfect outlet for it. More importantly, he figured that a little al fresco friskiness might get Sam to stop babbling about the impact of climate change on the migration patterns of certain supernatural creatures in response to Dean idly wondering why the hell a Chupacabra ended up so far north. Fifteen minutes was more than enough of that.

“Hey Sammy, how about you and me get down and dirty before we hit the road?,” Dean asked suggestively as he waggled his eyebrows and gestured with his hips in a manner that he would define as “seductive as hell” and Sam would define as “violently off-putting.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Right now? Dude, we’re both covered in Chupacabra and we totally reek. All I wanna do is get back to the motel and jump in the shower.”

“Hey, I for one think the smell is sexy. Maybe it’s an aphrodisiac or something,” Dean argued.

“Either you’re a lot weirder than I thought or you’re lying through your teeth.”

“Okay fine,” Dean conceded, “we smell like _eau de rotting flesh_ but I’m very graciously willing to fuck you despite that. It doesn’t get more romantic than that.”

“More romantic than screwing on a pile of dead leaves while a bunch of voyeuristic squirrels watch us? How could I ever hope for more?,” Sam snarked. But despite his words, there was a small grin on Sam’s face as his arms snaked their way around Dean’s waist and tugged him closer, allowing Dean to feel his arousal.

“Hey, banging in the woods under the stars is romantic as fuck. You’ll change your tune in a few minutes,” Dean murmured before pulling Sam into in a slow, dirty kiss while backing him towards the pile of leaves.

*********************

A scant five minutes later, Dean came to the conclusion that banging in the woods was decidedly _not_ romantic as fuck. Or even romantic in any capacity at all.

In fact, after accidentally inhaling five rotting leaves in as many minutes and seeing Sam wince whenever stray twigs dug into his ass as Dean grinded against him, Dean was of the belief that having sex in the woods just plain sucked.

“It’s possible that this wasn’t the most carefully executed and well-thought out plan,” he finally admitted a little bashfully. “We might have to call this one a wash.”

“No kidding,” Sam snorted as he began picking leaves and clumps of dirt out of his tangled hair. “We’ve never really had the best luck with outdoor sex, now that I think about it.”

Forgetting his sadness at their unsuccessful attempt of forest-fucking, Dean’s face broke into a grin.

“Oh Christ, do you remember that time in the Mojave desert?”

Sam’s shoulders began shaking as he cracked up at the memory of their disastrous rendezvous.

“Like I’d ever forget that,” he said through his laughter. “Remember how that rattlesnake almost bit me on the ass?”

“Fuck the rattlesnake, I was talking about the fact that you accidentally started jerking me off while your hand was covered in sand. It felt like my dick was getting sandpapered. That was just straight up traumatic.”

“And then we both got the worst sunburn of our entire lives,” Sam added as he wiped tears of mirth from his face.

“At least yours turned into a tan after a couple of days, you asshole. I peeled for like three weeks,” Dean grumbled without any real malice.

Sam leaned his head against Dean’s shoulder and let his brother idly pick debris out of his messy hair.

“God, we’re a disaster,” he sighed into the crook of Dean’s neck.

“We really are,” Dean agreed fondly.

The next few minutes passed between them in a comfortable silence as they sat on the ground and watched the stars gleam through the canopy of trees above them and Dean decided not to rub it in Sam’s face that the night ended up being kind of romantic after all.

After all, he wanted Sam to be in a good mood when he tried to convince him to end their night of ill-advised forest sex with ill-advised shower sex when they got back to the motel later.

 

 


End file.
